


So Pretty When You Cry

by preciouslittletime



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Mentions of Hoshi's weird little tiger plushie that has a butthole, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouslittletime/pseuds/preciouslittletime
Summary: But Soonyoung has never been one to know when tostop.
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Seokmin | DK
Comments: 29
Kudos: 172





	So Pretty When You Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Nobody Compares by One Direction. Nah, I'm just fuckin with you....haha unless....
> 
> Anywho, this was a little break from a very long fic I've been working on for the last three weeks. Cranked this sucker out in like 2 and half hours and it's un-beta'd so excuse any errors. Also, my first seoksoon so just like...excuse the whole thing.

It’s been a day. 

Seokmin is halfway through a takeout container of, literally, just rice and staring blankly at the wall like it’s going to explain all the reasons his day sucked so heinously bad. There’s absolutely nothing fun about comeback season preparations and Soonyoung has that weird ocean-waves-on-your-legs-hours-after-you-left-the-beach feeling from repeating the same choreography for four straight hours. Realistically, nobody should be upset at anyone for fucking up so much. It’s kind of like when you do that Stab A Knife Through Your Fingers trick, like patterns become super difficult to maintain and that’s the same for forcing your entire body to do the same thing over and over and over and over.

Seokmin is pissed at himself anyways.

“What are you thinking about?” Soonyoung asks carefully. He knows he’s not particularly talented at being the Comforting Friend. Jeonghan tells him all the time he needs to spend more time listening to people's problems instead of waiting for his chance to talk them into not being sad anymore.

Seokmin gives him a noncommittal shrug. His hair is still dripping wet from his shower, starting to fluff a bit from the humidity that gets trapped in his room from the steam drifting out of the en suite. “Tired,” he says.

Soonyoung gets a little stumped, as per usual, on what exactly he’s supposed to say. Words and sentences get stuck between his teeth with the amount of effort he puts into not saying the first thing that comes to mind. He knows Seokmin better than anyone, and he _should_ know what he needs to hear, because he prides himself on being a good friend. 

“Want to just, like, watch something funny? Cuddle in bed on the Mickey Mouse sheets? You can lay on the tiger plush with the butthole and everything!” 

Humor. That’s what we’ve settled on apparently.

It works well enough, because Seokmin cackles around a mouthful and then finally opens the container of meat that he should be eating along with the rice. It makes Soonyoung smile, too, because Seokmin’s laugh is like a Pavlovian dinner bell, it always seems to make everyone in a three-meter radius feel just as happy as he is.

They end up in bed, with heavy arms and legs weighted with hours of dance practice tangled up on top of sheets that smell like Soonyoung’s cologne. Seokmin is little spoon despite his size and has an iPad some centimeters from his face with some American comedy movie playing at a low volume. Soonyoung molds himself to Seokmin’s muscular back, wraps a protective arm around his middle, and props himself up on a pillow so he can see.

But he’s not really paying attention to anything happening on the screen - plus they’ve seen this movie about sixty-five times since Soonyoung can’t figure out how to download anything else without help. 

There’s this always weird tension. Well, not weird really, it’s exciting. But it _is_ tension, because Seokmin is tactile and Soonyoung is a glutton and the two of them are playfully attracted to one another until it’s not playful anymore. Seokmin keeps his back arched and ass pressed backwards in an unmistakable invitation for this to cross the line from harmless cuddling to _please tease me a little bit the way you know I like it._

Soonyoung lets his fingertips take stock of the thread count of Seokmin’s t-shirt, pinching and twirling the soft cotton blend over the skin underneath. The planes of his stomach are rigid, like he’s flexing, but not in a showing-off way, more like he’s holding his breath. Soonyoung flexes his jaw, slides himself further down on the pillow so he can rest a cheek on the bowed expanse of Seokmin’s neck. His hand splays out, palm flat so he can make a better study of the fabric and the skin and the hard muscle. He curls his fingers, letting his fingernails dig in slightly until he can hear the sharp intake of breath like an answer to a question neither of them has really verbalized.

The movie plays on through scenes Soonyoung can describe from memory and Seokmin is breathing through his nose in tight huffs. He pinches Seokmin’s nipple through his shirt, rolls it between his thumb and forefinger until Seokmin squirms and arches his back even further - impossibly further – into Soonyoung’s space.

He can almost see Seokmin’s pulse jumping in his neck and attaches his mouth _just_ there to sooth it. It’s rabbit-fast on his lips, and Soonyoung’s stomach clenches knowing Seokmin is so keyed up just from a few touches like he they haven’t had sex dozens and dozens of times before. Because Seokmin is sensitive, responsive, a human embodiment of a stroke to a man’s ego. The little things never get boring to him and he’s never used to them, he’ll always be the boy he who hides his whine when Soonyoung sinks teeth into his jaw like it’s the first time he’s ever done it to him. 

Soonyoung pushes his shirt up with one hand so Seokmin’s entire torso is exposed and Seokmin curves his spine like he’s proud to be on display. As he should be. Because his golden hour skin is smooth, and his chest has gotten so chiseled in the last few months, and his nipples are pebbled up so nice. 

Seokmin grinds backwards when Soonyoung tears his nails down his stomach. It wrestles a soft moan from both of them. Soonyoung is half-hard in his joggers and Seokmin presumably is, too. They know each other pretty well, and Seokmin gets harder quicker from prolonged foreplay then he does from something fast and dirty. Soonyoung on the other hand really, _really_ likes to tease. Maybe even more than sex. There’s probably a treasure trove of psychoanalyzing that can be done on that fact alone.

“Should we turn off the movie?” Soonyoung asks straight into Seokmin’s ear. Just a whisper and breathier than it needs to be so the nape of Seokmin’s neck breaks out in goosebumps. 

“If this is going where I think it’s going, then, maybe?” Seokmin laughs, high strung, like he’s losing his sanity. Soonyoung is chuffed about it.

“Assume the position then,” he grins, peppering a few wet, open-mouthed kisses to Seokmin’s bulky shoulder over his t-shirt. A complete betrayal of what he just said, because he holds Seokmin still as those kisses end up moving towards his neck again.

Seokmin lets out a shaking exhale blended with a laugh and Soonyoung laughs, too. “Gonna make you feel so, so good, Seokminnie,” he promises.

After some maneuvering, Seokmin is on his back and Soonyoung wrestles with getting him undressed. Half the shirts he owns hardly fit him anymore and he’s so hard his high-hemmed shorts get stuck on his dick when Soonyoung tries to pull them off. Seokmin just watches with a lip sucked between his teeth, neck arched up slightly so he can look down at his own cock falling onto his stomach. He glances upwards at Soonyoung kneeling above him and - _oh, that’s how tonight is going to be_.

“Want me to get something for your wrists?” Soonyoung asks methodically, trying to temper his voice so he doesn’t sound over excited. But _fuck_ he’s _fucking excited_. 

Seokmin shakes his head, bottom lip still between his teeth so hard the stretched skin of his chin is going white. “I can stay still.”

Soonyoung smiles so hard his eyes squint up and he can’t even see Seokmin anymore. His face might just crack with the force of it. He rubs small, small circles with thumb into the meat of Seokmin’s inner thigh, not high enough to touch his cock, too high for it not to be suggestive.

“You gonna be good?” 

Seokmin twitches like Soonyoung is slapping his thigh instead of soothing it. He looks up at the ceiling, nods fast and pants through his obviously dry mouth.

Both hands now on his inner thighs, sliding up and down until his fingertips are a hair's breadth away from touching the base of his cock. He’s the most sensitive here, a scale of his responsiveness from knee-notch to groin. He shifts his back, pushes his ass down on the bed.

“I’ll be good,” he says softly. 

Soonyoung rests on his stomach between Seokmin’s thighs, nudges him to move further up on the bed so he’s half-sitting up on the pillows against the headboard. Without prompting, he shoves his arms underneath his back. Soonyoung smiles approvingly before he bites down into his abductor tendon and lets his cheek press up against his balls. Seokmin huffs, shimmying his hips from side to side as Soonyoung puts attention everywhere and anywhere around the one place Seokmin wants him to go. When Soonyoung glances up again there’s precome dripping on to his stomach and Seokmin has his eyes screwed shut.

“Seokminnie look at me,” he pouts, pretending to be put out. Seokmin complies but fails spectacularly at forming a smile from the way his jaw is hanging down. 

They smile at each other - well Seokmin smiles as best he can - and Soonyoung licks the underside of Seokmin’s cock where it’s resting on his belly. It twitches up into his mouth with just the softest, softest hitch of breath tumbling out of Seokmin’s lips.

Seokmin’s biceps flex and unflex like he’s making a behemoth effort not to move his arms and Soonyoung is smiling around his tongue hanging out and drawing wet patterns on Seokmin’s cock without using his hands. Still not giving Seokmin what he wants. This is what he means about the psychoanalysis. Like he needs _therapy_ to figure out why he likes doing this to Seokmin so much. 

When he finally takes Seokmin in hand, Seokmin arches off the bed. He holds him in his fist, lets his tongue swirl around his tip to gather the precome on his tongue. Then he goes slow, until Seokmin’s heaving breaths are mixing with the wet sound of Soonyoung taking him down his throat as controlled as he possibly can. Seokmin whines when the head of his cock meets resistance and he furrows his eyebrows, blinks fast. Soonyoung doesn’t look away. 

Cause he’s like, devastatingly good at giving head. Maybe he’s a little proud of it. And who cares if that makes him full of himself. Especially when Lee Seokmin is trying so hard not to fuck up into his mouth with both lips now between his teeth so he’s not too loud knowing somebody else on the other side of the wall. 

He alternates between going fast and slow. Fast enough that rushed sound of Seokmin breathing through his nose quickens like a warning and slow enough that he exhales around a whine. He’s making a total mess, too, precome and spit shining on Seokmin’s lower stomach and over his own chin. Seokmin catches him wiping it way without pulling off and whines all over again. He’s so whiny when they have sex.

He comes fast and without warning. Maybe it’s something about the way he’s watching Soonyoung take him all the way down to the base, maybe it’s something about the way Soonyoung moans around him when he can feel his abdomen clench under his palm. Might be a little bit of the way Soonyoung flutters his eyelashes and grinds down on the bed because he likes showboating when he’s doing this. 

Whatever it is, Seokmin yanks his own arms out from under his back to clamp a hand over his mouth. The moan gets trapped behind his palm, stilted and high like a pretty middle C note cut off around his throat closing up. He bucks his hips upwards as his orgasm moves through him in waves and Soonyoung has to hold him down with both hands because he’s so much stronger than he actually realizes.

The fingers splayed over Seokmin’s mouth crack open so Soonyoung can hear his hoarse little, “Oh _god_ , Soonyoung.” He looks blissed out and dazed, similar and unsimilar to the way he was staring at the wall only an hour or so earlier. Jeonghan is right, maybe he should shut up more, because it can clearly be rewarding. More effective, too.

But Soonyoung has never been one to know when to _stop_. Because he doesn’t stop. He gives Seokmin a beat to recover, mouth still on him, but he doesn’t stop, _stop_. Seokmin’s entire body tremors violently when Soonyoung bobs his head back down, his legs kicking out in spasms, hands coming down to Soonyoung’s hair pleadingly. Soonyoung just grabs hold of his wrists and pins them on either side of his body so Seokmin shudders, because he likes being held down. 

“I…’s too much,” he keens. Another lovely note, Seokmin has always had perfect pitch. 

Soonyoung keeps a steady pace and Seokmin is arched so much off the bed it looks like his spine might snap in half. Seokmin doesn’t fight back, doesn’t really tell him to stop, and Soonyoung takes it as permission. And really Seokmin likes it. When he falls back down on the bed he’s writhing nearly out of his grip, but he’s panting harsh and frantic and he’s not getting any softer in in Soonyoung’s mouth. 

So, he keeps going, holding onto Seokmin’s substantial wrists and knowing full well that Seokmin could realistically break out of being pinned like this. He doesn’t. So, he keeps going. Seokmin’s cock hitting the back of his throat in such a way that he knows he’ll be so _fucked_ for vocal rehearsal tomorrow. So, he keeps going. Even though he can see the way Seokmin’s features are screwing up and bottom lip pouting out and he’s hiccupping out these half-wounded sounds.

He thinks maybe he’ll self-immolate when the first tear rolls down Seokmin’s temple. The wet track catches in the light cast by his bedside lamp, and Seokmin chokes out a soft cry. _Shit_. Okay maybe not therapy. Maybe full committal and long-term observation, because this, _this_ should not make him feel like somebody has poured gasoline on the steady burning fire in his gut. He can’t help but moan and Seokmin’s cock down his throat, move a little faster, push his hips down into the bed for some relief.

“I _can’t_ ,” Seokmin whines. Soonyoung pulls off and _oh_ Seokmin is a mess. 

“You can,” he says with a smile, giddy and slightly off-kilter. He pauses, smoothing his thumbs over Seokmin’s wrist. “Do you want me to stop? Be honest.”

Seokmin shakes his head no. So, he keeps going. 

Now, Seokmin has always been the ‘crybaby’ of the group, but he’s never cried like this. Glimmering fat tears under his eyes, red rimmed and foggy as his mouth hangs open. There’s been times the sex has been _so_ good he’s _looked_ like he was going to cry, but never, ever has he cried like _this_. It shouldn’t be pretty. But it is and Soonyoung’s heart is pounding in his chest, echoing in his ears.

His throat is burning so much he’s worried he might have to stop, but Seokmin starts shifting around on the bed again. He starts babbling nonsense, tears still falling for real now, completely over stimulated. Litany of _I can’t, I can’t, I can’t_ spilling out of his mouth unfiltered. 

And then he comes again. Which makes Soonyoung’s brain completely short-circuit, because it should be impossible for him to do and _has_ been impossible for him to do up to this point. But he does, with a silent cry, tears still wet on his high cheek bones. Soonyoung feels like the room is on fire, he’s choking on the smoke.

He pulls off fast, scoots knee first up Seokmin’s legs and yanks his joggers down so he can get himself out just enough. It doesn’t take much, just a few rushed strokes and he’s coming on Seokmin’s stomach with a shout. Seokmin’s eyes are open through it, but it looks like he barely registers his surroundings with the way they’re glassy and wide open. Soonyoung puts his hand down over Seokmin’s head on the pillow, leans down just enough so he can kiss his lips for the very first time that night around a laugh.

Seokmin laughs, too, like he’s finally coming to after being knocked unconscious. And Soonyoung has never come back to back, but he imagines being knocked out wouldn’t be too far off a sensation to describe the feeling. He collapses at Seokmin’s side and they’re both giggling like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened. Maybe in a way it is.

“So, uh, that refractory period, huh?” he laughs, turning his head to look at Seokmin’s profile. His eyes are still pink, but the tears are drying. He smiles his biggest smile, the one reserved for special occasions.

“I have no idea, hyung. I don’t know where that came from.”

“You’re okay though, right? I didn’t...like...hurt you?” Soonyoung pokes the puffy skin under Seokmin’s eye.

Seokmin turns his head and they’re nose to nose. He raises his eyebrows up. “What part of that makes you think I was in pain?”

Soonyoung floods with relief and he hadn’t even realized how worried he was. “Oh. Cool. That’s cool.”

There’s a moment where they’re just looking at each other and Soonyoung is no mind reader, but he’s pretty sure Seokmin is thinking what he’s thinking. Which is crazy to consider, because Seokmin is his best friend, they’re _best friends_ , but something more(?), also. They fuck, like, regularly. That’s not something best friends do.

Seokmin’s cheeks manage to turn even pinker and he turns away. He sits up on his elbows, looks down at his stomach and groin. “Oh, gross.”

“Shower...again? Then bed? Wanna sleep here tonight?” 

Seokmin looks at him, same old Seokmin smile like a fucking sunbeam became a sentient human being. “Yeah, always, hyung.”

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lithomancy) / [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/lithomancy)


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